Scientific Progress Goes Whoops
by Apapazukamori
Summary: It all started with a cup of tea... or, rather, with unintended influence from Anissina. Rating is for lime. BL content. Yozak/Murata, hints of other common pairs.
1. Tea for Two

**Scientific Progress Goes "Whoops!"**

**Part One - Tea for Two**

"You want tea, Highness?"

Yozak grinned as the black-haired youth looked away from the hilarity in the garden and up at him. He took note of the tray in Yozak's hands, how there were only two cups, and then smiled. "Sure." He leaned back in his chair and shifted his weight so he faced more toward his new companion.

Yozak glanced out into the garden as he set the tray down and watched the kiddo with Greta and Wolfram, trying to teach the young noble how to play baseball. Off to one side, Conrad kept watch, as always, and covered his mouth with one hand whenever his younger brother did something particularly amusing. "How long've they been at it?"

Murata glanced out too. "All afternoon," he said with a wry shake of his head. "There are times when Sir von Bielefeld seems to get the hang of it, and then he nearly clocks Shibuya in the head with the bat."

The redhead snorted and set out the cups, pouring for the Sage first, and then for himself, though not as generous a portion. "Kiddo oughta brought one of those helmets." Murata laughed and Yozak eyed him. "And are you just out here working on your tan, Highness?"

He received an enigmatic shrug and smile in reply, then Murata plucked at one sleeve of his jacket. "If I were, I suppose I'm not exactly dressed properly."

"Doubt anyone'd mind if you changed," was the spy's answer. He dropped into one of the other chairs at the table and stirred his tea idly.

Murata plucked three sugar cubes out of the bowl and added them to his cup. "Mm, where I come from, having a tan implies you have nothing better to do than sit out in the sun all day."

Yozak arched one eyebrow. "Do you?"

"Well, not today... but that's hardly the point."

"Ah, I see." Yozak tapped his spoon against the side of his teacup and watched as Murata continued to fuss with his tea. The young Sage had loosened up somewhat in the past months, now that everything with Soushu had been put behind them. But not nearly as much as he could, Yozak was certain. Not that the kid's personal life was any of his business -- unless someone thought it should be, anyway -- but just because an edge had dulled here and there didn't mean everything was perfectly smooth. "Well," he said lightly, "at least you've started taking days off."

Murata grinned. "Don't let the temple maidens hear that. They'll find more chores for me to do."

Yozak laughed out loud. "Surrounded by pretty virgins ain't all that it's cracked up to be, is it, Highness?"

"Oh, I don't know about that," the youth said mock-thoughtfully. "They do have to change their clothes at some point, don't they?"

The kiddo often lamented that his friend acted like an old man, and comments like that, accompanied by a sly wink, lent credibility to the label. Yozak snorted again and clucked his tongue. "Careful, Highness..." he wagged a finger and Murata grinned. "I hear s'not a good idea to get little Lady Ulrike upset."

Murata picked up his teacup, now apparently satisfied with turning it into something was more or less tea-flavored sugar milk, and snickered. "She'd have my head," he agreed. "It's not easy recruiting maidens." He took a long sip of his tea and then looked up. "Think about it, having to spend your entire life..." the boy frowned, suddenly, and glanced at his cup. Yozak sat up a little straighter as he touched one hand to his lips and then looked at his fingertips, as if expecting to see something there.

"Highness?"

Dark eyes met his and Murata immediately turned red and glanced away quickly. "It... I'm not s, sure..."

Yozak stood quickly, curiosity turning to concern in less than a heart's beat. A poisoner in the castle? Was his -- or her -- target the Sage? Or...

He glanced over his shoulder at the young king. He hadn't been specific as to who the tea had been for when he'd been down in the kitchen. Someone could have decided the odds looked good enough to try for the Maou. Yozak looked back at the Sage and saw that Murata had set his cup into its saucer, hardly a drop spilled, and his frown had deepened. The flush that had risen to his cheeks hadn't eased at all. Yozak reached over to feel his forehead, and Murata pushed his chair back a good two or three feet before Yozak could touch him.

"Highness, what is it?" He flagged down one of the maids lurking in the entrance to the garden, Doria, and she hesitated before coming toward him. "Go and grab Gisela," he said quickly.

"No, don't." Murata raised his head with an effort, teeth clenched tightly. He looked past Yozak's shoulder and stared steadily, though his eyes seemed slightly glazed. "Go get--"

"Did it work?!" An eager, sharp, female voice rang out into the garden.

"--Lady Anissina," Murata finished.

Yozak heard a shout behind him and turned to see the kiddo and company had paused in their practice, and Yuuri was waving at the redheaded woman as she strolled onto the patio with a triumphant look on her face.

"Ah, it did!" Clapping her hands in delight, Anissina peered into Murata's face, which tightened even further as she pressed close to him. Yozak's eyes narrowed at the fist clenched in the tablecloth. "Granted, not the intended test subject, but that's hardly important--"

"Hey, what'd you do?" Yozak finally piped up, as the level of discomfort in the Sage's expression only heightened. Whenever this particular woman used the phrase "test subject", he had two reactions: amusement or dread. He was leaning much closer to the latter in this case. Anissina's last attempt at potions had produced something that had burned a hole in the floor.

She stood up straight and placed both hands on her hips. "It's called 'Act Like Newlyweds Tonic'," she declared.

Murata turned ashen, dark eyes widening. Yozak blinked. "You mean..."

With a satisfied nod, Anissina gestured toward the tea. "I put a dose in the tea, hoping I could help His Majesty along in his engagement." She winked at Yozak, who wasn't sure, now, which reaction he was having to all this. He should probably be irritated that she'd taken such a risk... and that she'd managed to drug the _wrong person_...

But he _did_ have a rather twisted sense of humor.

Anissina studied Murata again, and the Sage had yet to regain any of the color in his face. Save for that blush that now had darkened to what had to be a painful shade of red. He swallowed. "When..." Another swallow. "When will it wear off?"

"I don't know," she replied blithely. "Probably in a few days."

Yozak covered his mouth with one hand; oh, Wolfram would have been forever indebted to Anissina if her plan had succeeded.

Murata twitched. "Is there an antidote?" He had to give the youth major points for managing to remain so calm while under the influence of what should have been a rather debilitating tonic.

Anissina waved a dismissive hand. "What would have been the need?" The twitch became more pronounced. "Now, Your Highness," she pulled a pad of paper and a stylus out of seemingly nowhere. "Can you tell me how it's affecting you?"

Murata rose from his chair -- unsteadily, but with increasing poise -- and walked past her, into the castle.

--+--

News of Anissina's latest experiment spread like wildfire through the castle. The kiddo had been furious, both with her intent and with the result, and had ordered her to adhere to something called "informed consent" before ever experimenting on anyone, ever again. Wolfram had, as Yozak had suspected, seemed slightly disappointed Anissina hadn't succeeded.

When three days had gone by with no trace of the Sage in either the castle or the Shinou's temple, Yozak stopped thinking the situation so funny. He was still smarting from the icy look Conrad had shot him the night before when he'd mentioned how amusing he'd found the whole situation.

"There are certain people you do not trick like that," Conrad had said.

And looking at things from the captain's perspective, Yozak understood what he meant. It could have as easily been any one of them, really. For it to have fallen on someone as reserved as the Sage -- with whom Yozak knew Conrad had more than a few things in common -- the situation seemed almost cruel.

Plus, the captain's mood probably hadn't been helped by the fact that he and his men had been looking for Murata for three days and hadn't found him. The kitchen staff was currently on the palace guard's 'shit' list, and everyone knew it.

Yozak walked through the library again, before moving on to the store rooms. No one had seen the Sage leave the castle grounds, and though that was hardly reason to believe he hadn't, Yozak had a sneaking suspicion the youth was still in the castle, but moving. On the road, there were too many unknown variables. Supplies, for one. And a random passerby might have the bad luck to be near when Murata finally lost control. Although, he wouldn't exactly call the idea of having sex with the Sage -- even under the influence of Anissina's tonic -- to be "bad" luck, exactly.

But, no. There were countless places to hide in the castle. Passageways long forgotten except by the one person still able to remember their construction. Even drugged up, the Sage still could probably figure out ways to nick provisions from the kitchen when no one was looking.

Sad, really.

Though if Murata _was_ hiding in undiscovered secret rooms or tunnels, Yozak hoped he'd be the one to find him. Those would prove incredibly useful.

The spy made his way down a winding staircase and stepped out onto the storage floor. He heard a soft sound behind him and turned.

A hand was poking out from behind one of the tapestries, waving him over.

Finally.

Glancing around to make sure no one else was around, Yozak walked over and lifted the side just enough to see a small alcove. And Murata, in the shadow, standing at the top of a retractable ladder. "We've been chasing you for days, Highness," he said in a low voice.

Murata shook his head and started to climb down. With the light from the torches along the wall, Yozak could see how tightly he was holding the ladder. And the hand that beckoned him to follow was trembling.

Yozak Gurrier could be called many things, but "abysmally dense" would not be one of them. Really, he should insist the Sage come out of his hidey-hole, or start hollering for someone else to come and help him drag the young man out. The fact that Murata was still hiding implied the tonic had not worn off as Anissina had expected. Accompanying him into the dark, with this in mind, really only led to one conclusion.

Yozak glanced around again, slipped behind the tapestry, and climbed down the ladder.

The hidey-hole opened up into an open room with a slightly low ceiling. Someone of Murata's height had a good foot or two of clearance, but Yozak had to stoop just a little. A single torch burned in a sconce on the wall, far from the trap door. Yozak watched Murata pull the ladder down and slide the door into place. In the flickering light, the Sage moved stiffly, each action undertaken with deliberate, intense concentration.

"Highness..."

"Surprised no one knew about this place," Murata said quickly, voice sounding like it had to be scraped out of his throat. It gave the normally sweet-sounding voice a distinctly husky timbre. "There's a whole bunch of... of rooms down here."

Yozak shook his head, astounded by that revelation, yes, but more that Murata still hadn't lost it yet. Though he sounded awfully close.

He reached out and stroked the back of his fingers along Murata's jaw. He was rewarded with a shudder as the young man clapped both hands over his mouth and squeezed his eyes tightly shut. Yozak moved behind him, broad chest just touching his back. "Highness," he murmured. "You've held out long enough." The lightest brush of his lips along the shell of Murata's ear produced a strangled sound that pushed up against Murata's hands but didn't manage to break out. Yozak chuckled under his breath, slightly awed at the resistance, even now.

And yet, what had Murata brought him down here for, if not this?

A heady trust indeed. He slid both of his hands along Murata's arms, feeling the heat through the thin white shirt he wore under his uniform jacket, until his hands gently closed around slim wrists and pulled the hands away. Murata whimpered, but just leaned against him, letting him lower his hands to his sides. Yozak nuzzled the side of his throat and listened to the youth's shaky sigh. "You smell pretty good for being on the run this long," he murmured, and Murata laughed softly.

"I snuck out for a bath," he replied. "Had to, after cleaning this--" he broke off into a moan as Yozak pulled his earlobe in between his lips and suckled on it. One hand frantically pulled out of Yozak's grip to reach back and tangle in the spy's hair. "Yozak, _uhn_, please..."

First time hearing his name on the Sage's current voice stirred a powerful arousal deep in the pit of Yozak's stomach. "I'm surprised you still know who I am, Highness."

Murata turned to face him, expression pinched and almost disturbingly open. "Oh god, so am I," he replied before reaching up and pulling Yozak into a hard, desperate kiss. With a groan of his own, he pressed one hand into the small of Murata's back and felt the shudder, and another as his free hand cupped the curve of the Sage's pert little ass. He kneaded that hand slowly, hearing tuned toward every little catch of breath in Murata's throat until the kiss was little more than Yozak's tongue stroking the hot, soft swells of Murata's open mouth.

He had teased Conrad mercilessly about the man's infatuation with the kiddo, but couldn't exactly say he had never wondered what it would be like to be with the young king's more enigmatic shadow.

Without stepping too far away to break the kiss, Murata pulled him along until eventually, they nearly stumbled on a bedroll laid out in a corner. Yozak groaned first at the implication, then laughed because he recognized the make. His mouth moved over the column of the Sage's throat, which Murata bared without hesitation. "You're pretty resourceful, for a bookworm."

Murata's hands moved over Yozak's chest, down to his waist, nimble fingers seeking out the tunic laces and undoing them. "'Needs must when the devil drives', Yozak..."

"The only need I see right now, Highness," he replied as he slipped one hand between Murata's legs and fondled his erection through his pants. "Is yours."

"Ohhh..." the Sage's hands stilled for a moment, clutching in the fabric, as Murata pushed his hips up into Yozak's hand. "Ngh...bad... joke..."

Yozak laughed against Murata's collarbone. "I do what I can, Highness." He heard an echoing laugh followed by a slight purr as Murata finally got his tunic off and started working on his breeches. Chuckling under his breath, he squeezed the Sage just hard enough to make him cling to his shoulder just to keep standing. "Taking things a little fast, hm? "

The only reply he received amounted to a strangled moan. Yozak straightened and recaptured the Sage's mouth and set about unbuttoning his shirt.

--+--

Murata managed to get Yozak to stay with him before succumbing to exhaustion, head pillowed on the spy's shoulder. Yozak watched him in the dim light and wondered how much sleep the kid had gotten in the last few days. He drifted in and out of dozes himself, finally waking for good and gently nudging his companion. Eventually, dark eyes opened, though Murata seemed only technically awake, and made a petulant sort of sound before curling up closer to Yozak's side. "You can get more shut-eye, Highness," he said softly, amused and somewhat surprised by the gesture. "But I've gotta get back topside." Depending on what time it was, his absence would be noticed.

Reluctantly, the Sage sat up, rubbing one eye with the heel of his hand. "Mm, you're right." Yozak hunted around for his tunic and belt, found Murata's shirt in the process, and handed it over to him. "Thanks," he said groggily.

Chuckling softly, Yozak tucked a lock of hair behind Murata's ear, and felt him shudder under his fingers. "It wear off yet?" he asked, pretty sure he knew the answer.

"Seems not," the Sage replied, gaze wandering thoughtfully over Yozak's body as he slipped his tunic back over his head.

Yozak snorted. "Well, I have to go now," he began, noticing where the gaze was lingering. "Should I come back?"

Murata blinked and looked up at him, then smiled almost shyly. "If you wouldn't mind..."

"Right, then." He leaned down and kissed Murata slowly, feeling the renewed want in the way the Sage's mouth moved and fueling it just enough to coax a little whine out of Murata's throat. He pulled back and winked. "See you later."

--+--

It took a week for the potion to wear off. Wolfram would have been deeply in debt to Anissina had the scheme worked.

Yozak wasn't sure he didn't owe the inventor something, himself.


	2. Home Again, Home Again

**Scientific Progress Goes "Whoops"**

**Part Two - Home Again, Home Again**

Yozak hefted his pack a little higher on his back after jumping down off the obliging farmer's cart. He saw the Shin Makoku border checkpoint in the distance and picked up his pace a little; with some good luck and a horse, he could get back to the capital before dark. His Excellency would be interested in some of the information he'd gleaned from the mucky-muck over in Svelera, and he hadn't had any decent beer or company in weeks.

The guards looked half ready to stop him, but a surreptitious flash of his "no borders" token halted that in its tracks. He didn't blame them; heaven only knew what he looked like. He knew he had a generous amount of stubble on his cheeks and chin that he'd get around to shaving once he could stop moving for more than an hour at a time. Maybe he'd put in for castle detail when he got back; he could use a breath of civilization and regular duty assignments after nearly a month hiding in the rafters of almost every noble house in the desert country.

Of course, a week of looking after the kiddo and his entourage while keeping an eye on the Court would have him itching to be off again. Such was the life of those with wandering feet. Shame Conrad had never inherited Dunheely's.

They let him borrow a horse from the way station and he made it to Blood Pledge Castle as the sun was heading toward the tree line. His arrival pulled Gwendal out of dinner, which the older man seemed perfectly content with; the peanut gallery must have been in fine form that evening. He unloaded his information onto Gwendal's open ears and, about two hours later, left the office with a promise of a report on his desk by tomorrow afternoon.

"Yozak." The redhead turned, halfway out the door. His Excellency waved him back into the office. "I was asked to give you this."

Gwendal held out a small square of paper, not much bigger than his thumb, with one of those looks that said he was trying very hard to appear chastising but failing just enough to look fondly exasperated. Yozak grinned and accepted the paper, not needing to open it to know who it was from. "Half step ahead of me," he said.

His boss snorted. "Report. Tomorrow afternoon."

"Yessir," Yozak trilled as he left the office. He did check the note as he lingered outside the closed door; it gave just a simple room description, a relatively mild riddle where his companion was concerned.

Dinner would have been well over by now, with everyone dispersing for the evening. He really should go meet up with Conrad, first, but more than likely his old friend was with the Maou. The kiddo had a knack for being something of a time sink; once you fell into his presence, something he'd do could keep you busy for hours. And he certainly didn't want to waste so much time doing the usual dog and pony show when he had someone waiting for him.

Besides, he'd never hear the end of it if he didn't solve the riddle in what his companion considered a reasonable amount of time.

Which, Yozak figured, was a fairly short window, given there were possibly only two rooms in the whole castle with pink walls and frilly lace curtains. And one of those rooms belonged to the Maou's daughter.

Ten minutes later, he let himself into the room, and grinned as Murata looked up from the book he was reading. The youth mimed checking his watch, then smiled. "Did you get lost along the way?"

Yozak shut the door behind him and turned the key in the lock without even having to look at it. "Maybe I took my time," he replied lightly, and stepped into the room. Murata closed his book without marking his place, which Yozak took to mean he hadn't really been reading at all, while he waited. His Highness could be such a little shit sometimes. Granted, one he was currently very glad to see, but a little shit nonetheless. "Why? You weren't waiting for me, were you?"

Murata made a show of checking his nails for dirt. "Of course not. I happen to be very fond of this decor."

Yozak placed one hand on the table and leaned over him. When Murata looked up, he had to tilt his head back in order to see. "Oh, really?" He bent down further, and feathered his lips over the corner of the Sage's mouth.

"Actually, it's hideous," Murata replied, breathing shallow. "But I figured you couldn't possibly _not_ find it." He pressed his hands against the arms of the chair to give himself leverage, and push himself up into a hungry kiss. Yozak slid his arms around Murata's waist and hauled him to his feet as he kissed back and felt the familiar curves and planes press up against his body. Murata moaned under his breath as the spy untucked his shirt and slipped his hands up underneath it to stroke his bare skin. He returned the favor by sliding his hands up into Yozak's hair. "Mmmm... do me a favor and get castle duty for a while?" One hand came down to stroke the side of Yozak's face. "And shave?" His breath hitched as fingernails dragged along his spine. "Ngh... and do that again..."

Yozak laughed and obliged, growling softly as he felt the back arch beneath his touch. "So demanding, Highness," he teased. "You've gotten selfish since I've been gone."

Murata nipped at his lower lip, meeting his gaze with a hazy, but amused, one of his own. "You're a bad influence on me." He licked his lips and those impossibly dark eyes seemed to get even more so. "And I haven't even gotten started."


	3. Cats and Bags

**Scientific Progress Goes "Whoops"**

**Part Three - Cats and Bags**

"Um... Murata?"

The Sage looked up from reviewing some of the agreements in Shibuya's "to sign" pile. At the far end of the table, Sir von Voltaire tackled his own half of the pile. But the man had looked over when Shibuya spoke up, currently hovering by Murata's left shoulder. Never let it be said the Maou didn't provide interesting distractions. "Yes, Shibuya?"

The young king fidgeted. "Got a sec?"

Murata raised an eyebrow, slightly bemused. "Since you seem to," he replied. Shibuya's eyes narrowed as he thought, then he rolled them in irritation and stuck out his tongue.

"Jerk," he said mildly, the tension in his face abating a little. It seeped back in as Murata looked at him expectantly. "Well, um... I just had a question... um..."

"It is very possible I have the answer, you know." Murata rested his chin on one hand and felt the quill's feather tickle his cheek. "I have lots of practice."

Another eye roll. "I know you're making fun of me."

"Of course not," the Sage said blithely. "I'm helping."

"Sometimes I don't know why you're my friend."

Murata grinned oh-so-innocently. "Awww, it's because you love me, Shibuya."

The king sputtered. "I do NOT," he shot back, flailing a little. "And about that, are you and Yozak a _thing_?"

Shibuya rarely managed to completely blindside Murata, but when he did, he _really_ did. The Sage blinked several times, and heard a sound to his right that sounded distinctly like a palm smacking a forehead. Thank heaven Sir von Voltaire already knew, because otherwise Murata really would have started to panic. Shibuya could be dissuaded with careful damage control. He gave Shibuya a confused smile. "Where did you get that idea?"

His friend blushed. "Um... I kind of saw you..."

Must. Not. Panic. "Did you, now?"

Shibuya pressed a hand to his forehead as if reliving a horrific memory. "Y, yeah... you were k- k- k- ..."

Oh, for the love of... "Kicking cans?"

Yuuri glared at him. "_Kissing_."

Murata barely hid his wince. "Are you sure it was me you saw?" he asked, attempting a light tone. "Yozak is very popular. He probably kisses a lot of people."

Shibuya tweaked a lock of his hair and Murata batted his hand away. "I'm sure."

For a moment, Murata entertained the insane idea of going back to being blond. At least, then his hair couldn't ever give him away again. He squared his shoulders and glanced back down at his pile of papers. "Shibuya, don't you have work you should be doing?" He waved a hand at the small stack of things he'd already looked over. "If not, you can sign these."

The king made a frustrated sound. "Murata! I'm just worried about you!"

A dark eyebrow quirked. "Why on earth would you be worried?"

Shibuya went back to the fidgeting. "Be, because... well... Yozak's a spy. And he goes on lots of dangerous missions... and if you guys _are_ a, a thing... you'll be sad if something happens to him."

Murata's protest died in his throat, and he just looked at Shibuya's pained expression. "Shibuya..."

"You're both guys, and that totally creeps me out." The other teen rubbed the back of his head. "But, if you're happy, then I guess it's okay."

The Sage stared at the paper in front of him for a moment, keenly aware of Sir von Voltaire's eyes on him, as well as Shibuya's. "... it isn't something we prefer to advertise," he said, eventually, grudgingly. He eyed Shibuya and his friend seemed ready to protest that, but instead just nodded.

"Secret's safe with me."

Murata sincerely doubted that, but he knew Shibuya would do everything he possibly could to try.


	4. Friendly Advice

**Scientific Progress Goes "Whoops"**

**Part Four - Friend-ly Advice**

Yozak knew something was up when Conrad suggested they go into town for a beer. His lightweight captain tended to stay away from taverns as a rule, and usually had to be hauled into one over Yozak's shoulder. Such a change to the norm smacked of ulterior motive. He appreciated the warning, however.

Conrad nursed his first (and probably only) tankard and made small talk until the barmaid stopped lurking beside their table. Probably hoping for a chance with a soldier, though she couldn't be all that bright if she thought to try her luck with Sir Conrad Weller, world-renowned cold fish.

Hadn't always been that way; though instead of being all but asexual, the half-human prince seemed intent on sleeping with anyone willing, if only to piss off his mother and Gunter von Kleist. Yozak was the single constant partner he'd had, as far as the spy knew. But even then, their friendship matured beyond simply rolling in the hay for hormones' sake. And _she_ had come along.

Yozak took a deep draw from his second round; Conrad needed to settle down with a nice girl or guy with a wicked kinky side and stop mourning Julia and pining for the kiddo. But that was just Yozak's opinion. That he never voiced for fear of having a similar argument tossed back at him.

Conrad sipped at his beer. "How did it happen, Yozak?"

Yeah, that was the topic Yozak expected; though the softly-spoken question had not been the one he anticipated first. Apparently his old friend didn't need any sort of confirmation of his suspicions. Interesting. Yozak took another pull of his beer. "That shit Lady Anissina gave him," he replied.

His captain raised an eyebrow. "He said that wore off months ago."

Yozak wasn't deep enough into his mugs to be truly insulted, but he shot the other man a nasty look anyway. "It did." He shrugged, finished off the beer and considered a third. It'd work as a useful prop, at least, if he didn't wind up finishing it. The barmaid took the mug and Yozak waved her off when she tried to flaunt her breasts at Conrad. A nice pair of tits wouldn't get the man's attention; look at his mother, for crying out loud. Besides, anyone could pull off a good rack; Yozak was particularly proud of his.

"You realize the risk you're taking, don't you?"

"I'm careful." Yozak leaned back in his chair, tipping it onto its back legs.

Conrad snorted. "Not so much as you think."

Yozak eyed him. "Well, I figured you'd figure it out at some point--"

"His Majesty told me."

All four legs were back on the ground as Yozak's brain threatened to melt in his skull. "You're _joking_."

The other man shook his head. "He saw you, and His Highness confirmed it."

Now, he hadn't expected that. Murata had been the one insisting on keeping things quiet. It had been a stretch to get him to agree to His Excellency's intermittent help. "He did, did he?"

Conrad held his mug up in both hands, elbows resting on the table. "Under significant pressure, it seems."

Knowing the kiddo, and knowing what the Sage thought about the kiddo, Murata's bean spilling made a lot more sense. Probably had made the Maou swear to secrecy, too; though he'd be damned if Yuuri could keep anything from Conrad.

Well, now things were a little more interesting.

"You don't approve, Mom?"

The captain frowned at him. "From a personal standpoint, I don't care who you're sleeping with." That figured. "But you are courting a world of trouble, Yozak."

Neither of them said anything when the barmaid brought Yozak his beer. She got the hint a little quicker this time and went to find some other patron to flirt with. Yozak downed half his mug before looking the other man straight in the eye. "Jealous, Conrad?"

Brown eyes stared back at him, calm and cool and very much like a younger version of Conrad that Yozak had known. "No."

The redhead snorted and shrugged. "Let me have my fun, Captain."

"His Majesty is very protective of His Highness."

Yozak chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment, then shrugged again, looking into his beer. "He's not the only one."

Conrad's brow had furrowed when he looked back up. "Yozak, are you...?"

The hair stood up on the back of his neck and he brought out his best insouciant smile and wink. "Now, that would be telling."

His captain looked at him hard for a minute and then sighed, shaking his head. "Always difficult."

The redhead grinned. "Bail me out, if the time comes, okay?"

Conrad snorted. "I'm not sure I'll be able to."

"But you'll try."

"Of course."


	5. Square One, Once Removed

**Scientific Progress Goes "Whoops"**

**Part Five - Square One, Once Removed**

Eight months after the fiasco with Anissina's "special" tea, Murata was back watching people frolic in the gardens. Though, this time, there would be no tea, and Yozak had joined the participants rather than the spectators. Sir von Bielefeld's batting skills had improved considerably, though the blond still seemed inclined to wield the bat like a sword. If he could harness that correctly, he'd probably manage to be a reliable line-drive-grounder hitter or a sacrifice bunter. But somehow, Murata doubted the young noble would remain patient long enough to master either.

Murata watched them all from the patio, chin propped up on one hand, elbow firmly planted on the tabletop. His uniform jacket lay draped over the back of his chair. The return of spring weather had been a blessing; that year's winter had been sleety and unpleasant. Just cold enough for a person to feel it, but piling a bed with quilts was excessive. And the maidens decided unanimously that the corporeal man of the temple should be the one responsible for clearing the steps and flagstones whenever they became too slick or during the rare snowfall. The Shinou's spirit thought it all very funny. Murata had quickly gotten in shape, but still considered the whole situation highly unfair.

Though, now he had an excuse to leave the temple on a semi-regular basis. His reason was always the same and always vague, but Ulrike instructed the maidens not to bother him about it. He hated asking for help in anything, but couldn't deny that she had proved infinitely helpful and discreet. She only asked for little bits of gossip, now and then, though never for the gory details. She was always particularly delighted at hearing about the seeking game he and Yozak played whenever the spy returned from a mission. Yozak's last riddle to him had been particularly challenging.

He smiled a little as he watched the redhead hoist Greta up on his shoulders; she was almost too big for that, though neither of them seemed ready to admit it. Although, he'd seen Yozak lift far heavier things than an eleven-year-old human girl, so maybe there was still some time left. Murata let his gaze wander over the redhead's sleeveless arms and appreciated the sight; the Shinou thought he was insane, or at least blind, to be so taken by someone who was so clearly built for brawn that he should be lacking in other attributes. Fortunately, said physique was something of a bonus. Murata wouldn't be so naive to say he would have been attracted to Yozak even if he'd looked like Dakaskos, but having the wit to describe castle locations in words that were backward, scrambled _and_ in a little-used dialect of northern Greater Cimarron went a very, _very_ long way.

He had made sure to convey just how far it went when he'd found the spy.

Murata was already planning for the next time Yozak went off on a mission. Yozak would never let him live it down if his turn was any less complicated.

Even when their secret finally came out -- and it would -- Murata wanted the game to continue. Though he almost feared what the redhead might come up with should he have license to employ the entire castle in an effort to outsmart the Great Sage. Not just because it would be insidious and ridiculous and brilliant.

Aside from the discussion with Shibuya, months ago, Murata had not spoken of his "thing" with Yozak to anyone. He knew certain people knew of it, and it had not sat well with him all winter. The part of him dominated by the Sage's memories fretted ceaselessly over it, along with more mundane concerns like the price of salt in Rochefort and how that was affecting tax revenue coming from the province. He thought too much. He also worked too much, and was fortunate his companion did as well. Neither of them could criticize the other for being too involved with the kingdom's inner workings; as if such a thing was possible, at their ranks.

In the garden, Yozak set Greta down and turned, catching his eyes and grinning. He raised a hand and waved, drawing the attention of Shibuya and the others and Murata felt the usual fake smile begin to slide into place.

He stopped it.

The attention from the others in the context Yozak provided was unwelcome. But Yozak's gesture was not. The part of him dominated by his own memories -- that part that said it was perfectly all right to wear a camouflage-print Speedo swimsuit when trunks would have sufficed -- wanted to do something to respond, and damn the consequences.

Self-protection versus self-expression. A balance he'd been maintaining his entire life. And for the last few years, he had been operating with a negative balance in the latter.

Sitting up a little in his chair he blew Yozak a kiss.

Sir von Bielefeld rolled his eyes, likely assuming Murata was being goofy and showy again. Shibuya looked like he'd nearly choked on his tongue.

Yozak looked surprised, then grinned and winked.

Murata sat back in his chair and readjusted his cheek on his palm, and just smiled as if nothing unusual had happened at all.


End file.
